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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24307723">Bunkmates</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chess_Blackfyre/pseuds/Chess_Blackfyre'>Chess_Blackfyre</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Galahad Dulak: Space Doctor and Rare Emotionally Stable Jedi [11]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Cuddling &amp; Snuggling, F/M, clone culture</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 03:13:38</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>792</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24307723</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chess_Blackfyre/pseuds/Chess_Blackfyre</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>It's been said that people get married, but clones share bunks.</p><p>Now Saint finds himself the other way around.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>CT-4077 | Saint/Galahad Dulak, Original Clone Trooper Character(s)/Original Jedi Character(s)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Galahad Dulak: Space Doctor and Rare Emotionally Stable Jedi [11]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1664269</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>188</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Open Source Soft Wars</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Bunkmates</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">


        <li>
            Inspired by

            <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24303976">Clones Share Bunk</a> by <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Project0506/pseuds/Project0506">Project0506</a>.
        </li>

    </ul></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“So, where’s your bunkmate?” Dinadon asks with a cavalier smile. Whatever joke he’s trying to go for falls flat as Saint glares and climbs up to the top bunk.</p><p> </p><p>“Smooth move bantha brains,” Monkey-Wrench childes, voice low.</p><p> </p><p>“What?”</p><p> </p><p>Saint knows that, but he still wasn’t in the mood to deal with his brother’s brand of humor at the moment. He already knew Galahad wasn’t going to be here when they got back to the ship. He <em> knew </em> that. They entered into this relationship knowing that they would have to keep things as quiet as possible. Even with Sargent Potts and Commander Bly in on the know--and dear Light he could have gone his entire life without hearing the “armor up” talk coming from the Marshal Commander--their brand of support was more ‘dont let me catch you’ than ‘break all the rules in the name of love’. That meant no, he could <em> not </em>sleep in Galahad’s quarters with her. And she couldn’t sleep in the barracks with him. Getting married wasn’t about to change that. </p><p> </p><p>(By the shores of the lake surrounded by his squad, the cloth being wrapped around their hands as they recited vows to each other. ) </p><p> </p><p>Clones don’t get married. Clones just share bunks. Glancing over, he can see both Radar and Burns settling in--although everyone knew that one always went over to the other’s bunk after lights out. They weren’t the only ones in the 327th, not by far.</p><p> </p><p>Recently though, Saint’s bed had been feeling empty. Was that really possible, though, with someone who had never slept there beside him?</p><p> </p><p>He supposed it could be worse. They could be like Tristan and Isolde, trading messages over encrypted frequencies, never seeing each other's faces except through the blue projection of a comm unit. Only meeting once before being wrenched apart by the whims of fate and the galaxy.</p><p> </p><p>He also got the top bunk right underneath the air circulation vent. Which was something of a concern when the vent started to move.</p><p> </p><p>“Hi.”</p><p> </p><p>He blinks. Once. Twice. Yes, that was Galahad above him in the ceiling vent. Who now had a rather satisfied grin on her face.</p><p> </p><p>“Uh, hi?”</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p> </p><p>Galahad was ashamed to say that she’d needed it explained to her. She had noticed something off with her husband the minute they came back to the ship. Their honeymoon over (two days in a beautiful if slightly bombed-out villa), Saint was attentive and as thoughtful as ever, but a kind of melancholy was sitting at the back of his mind. A kind of yearning that only increased as the day went on.</p><p> </p><p>(“So,” Hawkeye smiled as she reported . “I understand you and Saint are bunkmates now.”</p><p> </p><p>“Beg pardon?”</p><p> </p><p>“People get married,” the medic explained, having his ‘this is important natborn so pay attention’ face on. “Clones share bunks.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh. <b>Oh.</b>”)</p><p> </p><p>Returning to the present moment, Saint was staring at her with that mix of affection and wonder as she removed the vent and silently jumped down onto his bunk. There was a definite rustle of blankets, but Gal could sense the attention of Gold Squadron purposefully turning away from them. </p><p> </p><p>“Baar’ur,” Saint smiles, voice low. “What are you doing here?”</p><p> </p><p>“What, a woman can’t sneak out of her room in the middle of the night and crawl through a half-mile of vents just to come say hi to her husband?” She whispers, adjusting herself to lay on her side, facing him and with her back to the wall. “Well, not just ‘hi’.”</p><p> </p><p>Saint looks at her curiously, not daring to make assumptions even as he felt a thrill.</p><p> </p><p>“I want to sleep with you,” she whispers. You could have heard a pin drop in that room as the other clones started desperately praying to the Force that they weren’t about to overhear their vod and his riduur get it on. (Like, they loved him, but <em>not</em> <em>that much</em>).</p><p> </p><p>Saint's cheeks flushed, <em>flushed </em>like a maiden in a holodrama as he tried to reply. “I--”</p><p> </p><p>Gal smacked his shoulder. “Not like that. I mean literally.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh. Oh!” Adjusting himself, Saint turns over, giving her his back as he pulls the blanket over both of them. Gal slides her arm over his hip and across his torso, snuggling up against his back. She likes holding him, Saint likes being held. Loving affection spills over from both sides of the bond.</p><p> </p><p>(He’d asked why she liked that position so much. “You’re a blanket hog and a human space heater,” she’d mumbled against his back. “I’m just being practical.”)</p><p> </p><p>A sigh of contentment as they settle in together. “Goodnight, fy nghariad.”</p><p> </p><p>“Goodnight bunkmate,” Saint smiled. He reveled the feeling of his love’s arms around him before drifting off to sleep.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Galahad has embraced the proud Jedi tradition of crawling through airducts</p><p>Later:<br/>Monkey-Wrench, flipping the lights on: “WAKE UP SLEEPYHEAD!”</p><p>Saint: “Wha’s going—?”</p><p>Galahad: “The fuck, man?”</p><p>MW: *runs away laughing hysterically*</p><p>Mando’a<br/>Baar’ur--medic, Saint’s affectionate nickname for Galahad<br/>Vod--sibling, brother/sister<br/>Riduur--spouse, husband/wife</p><p>Ciilyri (Welsh)<br/>fy nghariad--my darling</p></blockquote></div></div>
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